Viktor smiled. “General Adler, would you not offer us a seat?” The third heir of the imperial family carried himself with exemplary manners and calm refinement; always poised, never hurried. Yet Adler knew that anyone who stood in this man’s way would be run over without hesitation. In Viktor’s eyes, the ultimate goal was not the throne itself but leading the Dracon Empire to become the greatest totalitarian power the galaxy had ever seen. The crown was already assumed to be his.

  Adler’s hesitation lasted only an instant before his face split into a brilliant smile. He reached out. “Please sit, please sit — your visit delights me beyond words!” He stepped forward, grasped Viktor’s hand and, with mock reproach, said, “Your Highness, you are the master here. What guest would dare to seat a host? Besides, your teacher, General Alexander Reed, is a military mind I have long admired.” After shaking hands and seeing them seated, Adler still wore that almost embarrassed expression of joy. He turned to his aide. “Bring out my treasured 2480 vintage!” Seeing the aide nod and head for the door, Adler called out, “And summon General Nathan Vex — tell him honored guests have arrived!”

  Vex was the number-two figure in the War Ministry and a loyal follower of Crown Prince Maximilian. Adler intended to use him as a shield. He did not understand why Viktor had come now, and why he had brought his teacher, Alexander Reed, the famed strategist; the famed strategist’s presence unnerved Adler. The setbacks the imperial forces had suffered in the Orion Belt had already stirred a political storm at home; Adler’s own footing as First General felt perilously uncertain.

  Now the Terran Federation’s counteroffensive had reached the Vega Cluster. A medium-sized fleet had been swallowed whole by the Federation forces. As the campaign in the Vega Cluster unfolded, neighboring polities with old grievances were restive — some were moving toward an anti-imperial alliance with the Terran Federation. If the Empire could not win decisively in the Vega Cluster, Adler realized, he would likely be the first to be removed.

  In the Dracon Empire, those who fall from power rarely fare well. Stripped of influence, one after another, the appointees whom one had elevated would be purged, old enemies would seize the chance to stab, and any pretext would be found to send you to the execution block. The mere thought chilled Adler.

  Viktor, of course, knew Adler’s plan. He inwardly cursed the sly politician, then politely turned to Alexander and said as if by way of introduction: “Master, General Adler is famed for steady dispositions and defensive mastery. In terms of military temperament, General Adler is no less capable than Cyril.” Alexander nodded pleasantly at Adler: “Although we have not met, I am familiar with your name, General.”

  Adler’s mouth twitched. He knew his own limits — cautious to a fault, less decisive in bloodletting than Cyril, even tactically outpaced in the field by Vex. He was about to deflect the conversation when Viktor cut him off. “But…” Viktor turned to him, “I hear the situation in the Vega Cluster is not optimistic: a few colonist worlds still harbor Federation forces, a fleet has been lost, and the new Federation jump-point remains undiscovered. General Adler, forgive me for speaking bluntly.” His words bordered on interrogation. Then Viktor smiled faintly and added, “My father asked me to visit the War Ministry and help out with strategy. Generally, you have done your service. It may be time to rest. Leave the remaining work to us.”

  The emperor himself has intervened! Adler felt as if struck by lightning; he could hardly move. Wilhelm von Reiss, who had reigned for decades, was the real sovereign — politically ruthless and brilliant. Even Cyril, the military titan, had not dared to mount a coup. The emperor used the battlefield and the Terran Federation to accomplish his ends. Wilhelm rarely issued direct military orders, but those who knew him best understood that his calm surface hid volcanic rage: the longer he studies, the angrier he is — and when he is most furious, he becomes eerily composed.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Only one person had ever slipped past Wilhelm’s notice: Cyril.

  When Wilhelm learned of Cyril’s defection and the defeat in the Orion Belt, he merely waved his hand — but Adler knew Wilhelm had spent three full days reading in private. The emperor’s quiet was the prelude to intolerance; he would brook no betrayal. If necessary, he would hunt down Cyril across the stars to make an example of him.

  The failed assassination had been another heavy blow to the royal house. The Butcher was ranked the universe’s second-best killer — the royal family’s very own blade. The astonishing fact was that he had died at the hands of the Singularity. That Singularity had several times rescued prisoners — a fact that made the imperial family and the high command look incompetent — and had foiled Cyril’s first-phase plan. Had that first step succeeded, the Orion Belt would have been the Empire’s. The Singularity not only assisted Cyril’s second-phase plan but also personally rescued Cyril from the Tartarus Legion. Was this person placed in the game by providence?

  Since the Butcher’s assassination failed, Adler had felt a foreboding: the emperor’s rage had reached a boiling point; quiet currents in the War Ministry meant a sweeping purge was looming. The emperor would act personally to defeat the Terran Federation and cleanse the humiliation. The two men standing before Adler now were the emperor’s instruments. The first generalship was, Adler thought bitterly, already ephemeral. His decades of toil might be swept away. More heartbreakingly, the emperor did not appreciate the Singularity; in his view, everything was Cyril’s cunning — a mere lieutenant hardly worth imperial attention. Adler still remembered Wilhelm’s scolding.

  “A Federation lieutenant? How do you expect the Empire to respond — assassinate him, kidnap him?” Wilhelm had flung his book down. “The Federation has planners and special troops — must we assassinate every one of them? Cyril, left aside to mock the royals? Is the Empire’s disgrace not enough?”

  Singularity — Adler suddenly laughed. A mere lieutenant had become the trigger that could topple him. He imagined, with a wry pleasure, the surprises this lieutenant might continue to bring the Dracon Empire.

  If Wilhelm knew that the data Adler had fed into a sniping network had become useless, if he knew the Federation had spawned tens of thousands of “Jacks” in a single minute, if spies sent to approach the lieutenant on Epsilon II had all been recruited into the Federation intelligence service — would the emperor rethink his decisions? Perhaps — but now the imperial house had no chance to see the lieutenant’s true value. Adler resolved at once: he would destroy all the files. He would protect this man because if the imperial ship struck an iceberg, this person might have saved Adler’s life.

  After Viktor and Alexander left, they had no reason to linger. When Vex entered Adler’s office, he found Adler alone, smiling before the window, staring out.

  Vex asked, “Where are they? Why are they here?”

  Adler did not turn. He continued to look out and then laughed heartily. “I didn’t know why Cyril liked standing here, but now I understand why I like to stand here and watch the view!”

  Vex asked, puzzled, “Why?”

  Adler gave no answer. He handed Vex the emperor’s seal on an encrypted slate and thought: What I want to know is the state of mind when Cyril betrayed us.

  Seeing Vex’s sullen face, Adler slowly left the room. He had stepped onto the path of betrayal.

  “Wilhelm! You lofty sovereign — did you ever consider how many you would offend by my actions? Those of us cast down will be finished. You betrayed me first!”

  …

  Jack thought he had lost a little weight, but the scale cruelly read: 310 pounds.

  A month had flown by. Jack had finally passed Cyril’s test. The Fourth Fleet had been wreaking havoc across the Vega Cluster — striking and dispersing like a pack of sly wolves, withdrawing when the enemy formed. Two fleets had been destroyed, and their carrier air wings had even struck the surface of a colonist world. The Second and Third Mixed Fleets, stationed at the Orion-to-Vega jump node, were now ready to open the route and pave the way for the army when the Fourth Fleet provided cover.

  Jack lay exhausted in the simulator pod and sighed. In two days, he would face Cyril and General Carrick’s brutal tutelage once more.

  Yet during the last simulation, he’d discovered a new mech-combat technique — the discovery thrilled him. Even that extra ten pounds of fat began to feel almost endearing.

  (CH107 end)